Today's poem is by William Huhn

Ghost Church
       

In sparse woods turns
of time fall in secret,
no onlooker.

A roof collapse, staircases—
no human knows when—sound
a mystery like the owl.

Cracked slabs erased by
measures beyond the ages
of snow. Little else

left of a faith
some had in the night,
save the fraught

promise of winter's
end and voices from
no one can tell.

Copyright © 2025 William Huhn All rights reserved
from Bachelor Holiday
BlazeVOX [books]
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission